trinity was struggling, and she’s not afraid to admit it.

okay.

maybe she is afraid to admit it a little bit. today has been a fuck up after a fuck up. first, her mistake with kylie. then being behind on charting. then garcia blowing her off. and then the abandoned baby crying.

she had soothed her. sung to her. and then the door had opened.

you had walked in. violet scrubs. hair in two braids. a bright pink stethoscope and pink bows in your hair.

trinity looked at you like you were an alien.

“hi, i’m dr. murphy, the paediatric resident here for the baby jane doe?” you had said, walking in with a bright smile.

trinity had give you a blunt run down on the baby, and left you to do what you needed to do. she wasn’t even the primary caregiver for the baby. she made a beeline for the bathroom, and slumped on the seat, fully clothed.

she was so exhausted, and seeing a cheerful paediatric resident only made her feel worse. she was slumming it down here while up there was likely sunshine and rainbows. trinity takes a deep breath. deep down, she knows paediatrics is not all sunshine and rainbows, but she’s having a bad day, and unfortunately, you and your bright scrubs are taking the brunt of it.

she was struggling. she was tired, sinking.

the scars on her legs were proof enough of that.

she rests her head on the paper dispenser. shuts her eyes for what can only be a few minutes.

and then she hears a door open. her head snaps up.

“dr. santos?”

she groans under her breath. she recognises your face. “just a sec.” she says quietly, exiting the stall.